


I'll Remember You

by Buttercup12



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: #Cry, #Sad, Frerard, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup12/pseuds/Buttercup12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In moments like this, when it was just the two of them - Frank forgot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My name is Victoria and this is my very first fanfiction I have ever written so please comment below and tell me what you think about this story. This one was originally posted on Wattpad. It's a sad one-shot so just a warning to those of you who don't do well with reading sad stories. Anyways, read away and tell me what you thought! THANK  
> YOUUUUU!!! :)
> 
> Also, there is a major archive warning, but I didn't want to spoil anything because the warning would've given everything away. Just remember you may cry! Thanks! :)
> 
> ___________________________________

Three months. It had been three months since it all happened. Three months and Frank hadn't spoke to _him_ , but he felt _him_ watching. He felt the stare burning into his skin, threatening to make him fall apart if he made eye contact with _him_. Frank wasn't sure when it became like this, walking in circles around _him_ , not knowing what would have been if none of it happened. Frank wasn't sure if he even wanted to know the outcome, despite how tempting it sounded. So for now, Frank just settled with that stare, the stare he had seen for so many years, the stare that made him want to drop to his knees and wonder where everything went so wrong.  
________________________________________

The spell started about a week after it happened. He could hear the footsteps in the house, he could hear the faint humming coming from _his_  lips as he prepared himself breakfast every morning. Frank could hear the refrigerator door open and close softly and he could hear _his_  slow, deep breaths, in and out, in and out.

The first morning it happened, Frank was in his bed, just waking up, slamming his hand on his blaring alarm clock. As Frank rubbed at the sleep in his eyes, he suddenly felt the opposite side of his bed dip ever so slightly.

He slowly opened his eyes, trailing them around the room until they landed on the subject on the bed. Frank saw that _he_ had his back turned towards him, leaning down to tie his shoes. Frank could hear the laces knotting together.

He looked so different. He didn't look as colorful or as lively. As Frank continued to study the odd structure of the back of him, a voice interrupted.

"Ready to get up?"

The voice made Frank squeeze his eyes shut as the voice brought back so many memories. The voice didn't sound the same as Frank had remembered. It sounded cracked and chipped, as if he was struggling to get each word out, like he was going to run out of breath if he tried to speak more than a handful of words. His voice was broken and dull, as if he wasn't looking forward to the new day.

When Frank finally found the energy to open his eyes again, he stared straight up at the ceiling, not wanting to glance at _him_  again.

"Yes," he responded.

It's all Frank could manage to say. However, he tried once more.

"Are you?"

He hoped that was enough. A soft laugh escaped _his_  mouth, though it sounded more like a tired sigh. _He_ was like a broken doll, trying to put his shattered pieces back together. All of a sudden, Frank felt the bed dip more, and right away, Frank knew that he was now lying next to Frank. He could see _him_  through his peripheral vision, his left leg crossed over his right so casually, deeply breathing in and out.

"Only if you are."

Again, there was that sad and tired voice. Frank didn't know what to say, so he flipped onto his side, his back now facing him. Once again, the bed shifted, the springs creaking in protest, and the covers rustling. Frank could now feel the exhales of _his_  warm breath hitting the back of his neck, overwhelming him. This was the closest they had been in a long time.

"I guess so," Frank finally replied.

Another laugh was heard in the room, this one even more strange than the last. The bed suddenly moved again as Frank heard _him_  stand up and begin walking towards the door, his footsteps soft but somehow loud at the same time.

The door creaked open and Frank knew he was about to leave. Frank quickly opened his eyes, and turned his head towards the door, hoping to catch one glimpse of _his_  face before he left for the day. But as Frank had expected, _he_  was already gone and he took the spell with him.  
_________________________________________

Ever since that first morning, the spell continued on, with an unspoken agreement between them that it should never be broken.

Since that first morning, Frank could still hear _his_  breath, _his_  footsteps, _his_  voice.

One particular day, Frank was in the kitchen preparing dinner. He was turned towards the stove, checking the roast and making sure it was cooking correctly. He held up a spoon, glancing at his own reflection through it.

Suddenly, footsteps walked across the kitchen, stopping just a few feet behind Frank. Frank held the spoon a few inches up in the air, seeing _his_  foggy reflection through it. Frank could see exactly what _he_ was wearing, all the way down to the shoes. _He_ looked off, not how Frank had grown used to seeing him.

He could hear the familiar humming coming from behind him, but he stayed determined, he wasn't going to turn around. But oh, how he wanted to turn around and look for just one second. He wanted to turn around and see _his_  face, the face that made him feel so many emotions at once he almost couldn't breathe.

For one second, he didn't care about the spell, the consequences, or the regrets. Frank whipped around only too see his plain old kitchen. Everything seemed untouched though he had just been there.

But now, nothing. No one.

Frank sighed, admitting defeat, before dragging himself to the kitchen table to eat his dinner. He set not one, but two plates down on the table, the second plate sitting opposite from where he was. Frank knew that _he_  would want to eat when he came home.

Thirty minutes later and still no sign of _him_ , Frank eventually put his cold dinner in the refrigerator for whenever he decided to return. His bed was calling for him, in which Frank gladly accepted.  
_________________________________________

The next day, Frank got an unexpected but not unwelcome call from someone.

"Ray! Hey man, how's it going? Long time no see," Frank said.

Ray was like a brother to Frank. They had known each other for years and Ray was right there for Frank when everything went down those three months ago. And for that, Frank was extremely appreciative that Ray was put into his life.

"Yeah dude, I know. I've been so busy lately. I haven't had much time to check in on you like I should be. Sorry about that."

It sounded like Ray was being careful with his choice of words, as if he was worried he might say something wrong at any second.

"Don't apologize. It happens. Everything okay?"

"Oh! Yeah! Don't worry about me man, I'm fine. I was actually going to ask you the same thing. You okay?"

Now he really sounded cautious.

"I'm doing fine, great actually. Why do you ask?"

"Frank...."

Ray started but then stopped and sighed into the phone. He seemed exhausted.

".....You know why."

That was all he said. Frank chuckled.

"Dude, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ray sighed again, this time louder and more desperate.

"Look, can I come over? Maybe we can catch up? Frank, I just want to make sure everything is okay."

There was a change in his tone. His voice had softened, as if he felt sorry for Frank. But why? Frank didn't know the answer.

"Sure. I'm on my lunch break at the office right now. I have about 45 minutes left. Did you want to come over now or later when I'm at home?"

"Later is fine. I'll see you around 7?"

He now sounded hopeful, determined to get a yes as an answer.

"Of course. I'll see you then."

"Okay, Frank. I'll see you later. Goodbye."

And again, he was back to speaking with that soft, damaged voice.

"Bye," was all Frank managed to say before hearing the phone click on the end, signaling that the call had ended.

He slowly put the phone down on the receiver, before rubbing his hands over his face over and over again, until he was able to focus on anything other than his previous conversation with Ray.

_________________________________________

Before Frank knew it, he was at home lounging on his couch, watching re-runs of _Full House_  when he heard the doorbell ring.

Frank checked the time on the clock that hung on his wall. 7:00 sharp. Ray always was perfect with his time schedules.

He pulled himself up off the couch, shuffling to the door, passing the wall of pictures that hung on his wall gracefully. There were about 10 of them, all special to Frank in some way.

As he passed them, his eyes lingered on one that stood out amongst the rest of them. It was a picture of _them_ , backstage after one of their many concerts. They had their arms wrapped around each other, their faces pressed together, each with large smiles on their faces.

They were so happy in that picture. It had been taken about a year ago. Frank smiled softly at the memory, lightly running his fingertips over their faces on the picture. He went into his own world.

The doorbell rang a second time, startling Frank and snapping him out of his trance. He quickly walked to the door and pulled it open, revealing a grinning Ray.

"Hey man! I was beginning to think you weren't home."

Ray was still smiling, but Frank could sense the hardness in his features, like he was forcing the smile out.

"Sorry. I got a little......distracted," Frank said while glancing back at the picture that he had just been looking at seconds ago.

Ray followed his line of vision and saw what Frank was looking at. This made Ray's smile lessen. There was something off in his eyes. He kept looking at the picture, but his mind seemed far away.

Frank couldn't tell what Ray was thinking about, so he simply opened his door wider.

"Come in, please."

Ray snapped his eyes from the picture to Frank's eyes, returning back to his smiling self, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes, Frank noticed.

"Thank you, Frank."

He walked past Frank and headed straight for the couch, his gaze landing on the picture for a few more seconds before he moved his eyes back to the couch and eventually sat down.

It was then that Frank noticed what Ray had brought with him. It was a large brown cardboard box that looked extremely worn out. The edged were bent and torn. It must've been carrying an assortment of items for a very long time.

Frank walked over to the couch and dropped himself down next to Ray, who finally looked up at Frank.

"I have some things to show you. Actually, I have some things to give you. I don't really need anything in here."

He gestured to the box that was sitting on the floor with his hands. Frank just continued to stare at the box.

"Frank, I think you'll be happy to have this as your own."

Frank didn't know what to say. What kind of stuff was Ray talking about? And how in the world is that stuff supposed to make Frank as happy as Ray was saying it would?

"Uh, okay?" Frank raised an eyebrow. "Well, now you have me curious. Can you show me what's in there?"

Ray nodded his head quickly, his afro bobbing back and forth.

"Of course."

He tried to smile, but again, it didn't reach his eyes. He just shrugged his shoulders and reached down. He opened the sleeves of the box, dust flying out, and reached in.

His hands dug around, then stopped when he felt what he was searching for. He slowly pulled out what looked like the back of a plain old black jacket, but when he turned it around, giving Frank a full view of the front, his head immediately flooded with memories.

It was a _Welcome To The Black Parade_  jacket. It was not Frank's jacket, though. It was _his_  jacket, the jacket that _he_  wore during the music video and during the concert tour.

Neither men spoke. They both just kept staring at the jacket, as they both thought of their own fair share of memories that involved _him_ and that jacket.

Ray finally broke the silence with a soft chuckle.

"God, there are so many memories." Ray said while laughing, before adding, "He sure was something else back then, huh?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed again, though Frank detected a sense of sorrow in it.

"Yep. Always has been, always will be. I'm sure he'll be happy to see it when he gets home. For now, I'll just keep it on the coat rack. What else is in the box?"

Ray's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Frank? You alright?"

He looked lost, concerned, but Frank didn't know why.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Again, Ray looked confused.

"Well, it's just that-"

"Look, I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but I've got a lot of work to do. I don't really have time for a conversation tonight."

Truth was, Frank did have time to converse, all night actually. But he could tell that Ray was getting into something Frank wasn't wanting to talk about. Ray closed his mouth, then opened it again, about to continue what he was going to say, and then decided against it. He started rustling through the box again.

"Sorry, I get it. Everything else in the box is a bunch of old pictures and a few old band T-Shirts. I thought you would want to keep them. You need them more than me."

He gave Frank a half smile. Frank smiled back and gave his thanks to Ray.

"Well, I better get going. I don't want to bother."

He stood up from the couch and began walking towards the door.

"Man, you're never a bother. We'll have to do this again soon. Anyways, he should be home any minute now, so I should go ahead and fix him a plate of dinner. We all know how hungry he is when he returns from work."

Ray was now staring at Frank like he was an alien with two heads.

"Frank," his voice deep now. "You do know that he's-"

"Oh, look at the time. I really need to start that dinner for him."

Frank began ushering Ray out the door, but Ray stayed rooted to his spot. He slammed his hand down on the door to block Frank from opening it. He was taller and stronger than Frank, so he knew he was at an advantage.

"Frank, you know it's time to talk about it. Stop avoiding it. It has to come at some point."

His voice had risen, he was now getting frustrated.

"Talk about what? Talk about the fact that you keep assuming something is wrong?"

Frank's voice began to rise as well. This was going to head towards something bad if Frank didn't get Ray out of the house now.

Ray's face softened.

"Look, Frank. Ger-"

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know the first thing about him. No one knows him like I do."

He was now full on yelling, every word echoing throughout the house.

"Please listen, Frank. Just talk to me about it. He would want you to."

"Get out now," Frank screamed, his face red with anger. Tears began to flood his vision.

"Get out and don't come back!"

He wrenched the door open, before he shoved Ray out, gave him one more glare, and slammed the door shut in his face.

He then ran to his room and collapsed on his bed, sobbing and letting out all of his anger. He stayed here for what seemed like hours, crying and shaking with anger.

He felt his bed dip and Frank didn't even have to think about it to know who it was. He heard a sad sigh come from behind him.

"You shouldn't have said those things to him. He was only trying to help."

That was the most Frank had heard _him_ say in the past three months.

"He was trying to ruin me, ruin us."

Frank heard the bed springs creak as he stood back up. He felt a hand stroke his hair, so comforting and soft. He then heard _his_ voice once more.

"It's not your fault."

 _His_  voice was down to a whisper. Then the hand was gone and Frank didn't need to turn around to know that _his_ presence was gone too.  
_________________________________________

Mikey Way is an intimidating man. This is what Frank thought when he first met Mikey. His serious face and constant blank looks made Frank feel very small. However, once Frank got to know him, he found out that Mikey was actually the complete opposite of what he had originally thought.

Mikey was actually very calm, and kept mostly to himself. Frank also realized that Mikey was extremely caring and protective towards his loved ones and those close to him. Overall, Mikey is a very good man. Frank was glad to have him as a friend.

However, that didn't stop him from being confused when Mikey showed up at his doorstep unannounced. "Just to talk," he had said.

And right now, Frank was debating whether or not to let Mikey in because he just knew this so called "talk" would lead to something he didn't want to talk about. However, he decided against shutting the door in Mikey's face, opening it wider to let him in.

They sat down at the kitchen table and after a few moments, Frank broke the silence.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Frank asked tentatively.

Mikey stared at Frank for a few seconds, before trailing his eyes around the room and into the living room, his gaze lingering on _his_  jacket that Frank had just received from Ray the previous day. It was hanging on the coat rack just like Frank had said it would be. Mikey's gaze held onto the jacket for a few more seconds before finally looking back to Frank.

"Nah. I'm still getting used to being here, y'know," he said while waving his hands around.

Franks's heart poured out to Mikey at that moment.

"I can understand that," he quietly answered.

The smell of _him_  was everywhere in the house and Frank knew Mikey noticed it. Frank had grown used it, but Mikey hadn't. Frank could only imagine what kind of effect this was having on Mikey.

"So I was on the phone with Ray earlier. He told me everything that happened between you two yesterday when he tried to bring it up. I think it's time for you and I to talk about what happened."

"No, I don't think so," Frank quickly replied.

He began to shake his head vigorously and he stood up from his spot at the kitchen table and walked over to the kitchen counter, gripping it, his knuckles turning white.

"I'm not ready."

"Frank, I think we both know that we're never going to be ready."

Frank's heart wrenched because he heard Mikey's voice crack just then. And he noticed Mikey's unshed tears, threatening to break loose at any second. Frank suddenly realized with pain that Mikey was just as much of a wreck as he was.

However, he still shook his head. He didn't want to do this. _He_  would walk in at any second and demand to know what was going on and then Frank would be safe.

"Frank, you have no idea what this is doing to me. I-"

"No! I-I can't."

Frank was starting to panic, his voice was starting to get more and more shaky by the second.

"He'll be home any second and we can all hang out together just like old times. It's been so long since we've done it, but w-we can do i-it."

"Frank, listen-"

"I have to start making him dinn-"

"Frank-"

"I'll make him his favorite-"

"Frank!" Mikey yelled.

Frank fell silent.

"Gerard was going to be your husband!"

And then everything in Frank seemed to snap.

 _Going to be_.

And then Frank realized one fact.

Gerard was not coming through that front door. Gerard was never going to come through that front door again.

The pain that erupted in Frank's chest was too much. His chest hurt, his sobs louder than thunder clapping out. The grief overwhelmed and he fell to the floor, crying harder than he had ever cried in his life. Mikey moved towards Frank, wrapping his arms around him and they both cried together. They cried for the one person they loved most, to one as a brother and to the other as the love of his life.

Mikey was warm and safe but Frank wished with everything he had that the arms wrapped around him were Gerard's and not Mikey's.

Gerard's ghost was not enough anymore.

After what seemed like hours of grieving, Frank's sobs had turned into gentle crying, with Mikey still holding him steady.

"It wasn't your fault, Frank."

Frank had never felt further from Gerard than he did in that second. Mikey's words offered no comfort, he just wanted Gerard back. He wanted his fiancé, soon to be husband back.

Their wedding was going to beautiful. Gerard had everything planned out and he was so excited. Frank realized with shocking pain that he was never going to see his fiancé walk down the aisle and become his husband. He was never going to see that gorgeous face that never failed to lighten up Frank's day at anytime. He would never hug him or kiss him again. He would never get to fall asleep with him in _their_  bed again and he would never wake up next to him again. Frank lost his soulmate, his best friend, his person. And that realization hurt him more than anything. It stabbed him in his heart.

"I forget sometimes. I f-forget that he's really g-gone."

Mikey just held him tighter.

"I talk to him. I hear him h-humming."

"So do I," Mikey whispered.

Frank felt a rush of affection for the man.

Someone moved in the corner of the room moved, but Frank stayed put, not turning to look at who he knew was there. Not because he didn't want to break their spell, but because he knew he needed to break that spell for good.

But even now, with Mikey holding him and forcing the truth out to him, he couldn't break his habit. He could feel Gerard now standing right next to him. He felt the air shift as Gerard kneeled down next to him.

Frank closed his eyes, trying to hold on to their spell, because he knew if he opened his eyes and looked, Gerard would really be gone for good.

"I love you, darling."

Gerard's voice sounded like leaves flying through the wind. It was so faded and distant, even though he was _right there_.

"I love you too, Gerard."

He felt Mikey's grip loosen on him a bit when he heard Frank's words.

Frank heard Gerard laugh. It was the first time he heard that laugh for a very long time, and it hurt. It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. He missed that sound so much. Frank's head flooded with memories of him and Gerard. They were so happy and in love.

Frank leaned away from Mikey and leaned more towards the man he loved. Gerard's presence was fuzzy and loving. Frank didn't want to get away from it.

"Try not to miss me so much."

Those words were so devastating.

His voice was hushed and it sounded so different from what Frank can remember. He was having a hard time with remembering what Gerard's voice sounded like these days.

Frank finally opened his eyes and looked up at Gerard.

But Mikey was right. And just like Frank knew, there was really no Gerard there for him to see. No hair, no face, no hands. Nothing.

Mikey had broken their spell.  
________________________________________

Sometimes, Frank still forgot.

It was now up to a year since it happened but sometimes, Frank still forgot.

Mikey had been checking in on him a few times a week to make sure Frank was doing okay. Frank knew that Mikey's constant calls and his constant check ups on the house was his own way of coping with the loss of his only brother. Talking to Frank was like connecting with Gerard.

Frank promised Mikey he would call him every night and for the past 9 months, he kept that promise.

Frank always reminded himself that Gerard was gone. He needed to do it for his sake and for Mikey's sake.

But sometimes, like right now, he would take out his cell phone and call Gerard. He slowly punched in the numbers on his phone screen even though Gerard was the first number in his speed dial. He just wanted to stretch out the time between them. He listened to the dull ring tone about 6 times and then he finally heard him.

"Hey, this is Gerard Way. Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Frank let out a shaky breath. It had been a year. But the pain of Gerard not being there with him every day is still there. Frank knew he had to stop putting himself through this pain. He had to stop doing this to himself. He just missed Gerard so much.

But listening to a recording of his dead fiancé wouldn't bring him back. He just wished it didn't sound so real.

Frank took a deep breath and spoke to someone who would never hear that message.

"Hey. It's me. I know I've probably left you a hundred voicemails already but I just needed to let you know that I miss you. I miss you so much. And I also want to tell you; I love you, Gerard."

Frank hung up and leaned back in his bed, his back resting against the headboard. He closed his eyes and felt the wind coming through his open window flutter across his face. The rustling trees put him into a meditation.

He almost smiled when he heard the familiar voice coming from the perch of the windowsill.

"Who are you calling?" ' _Why are you calling me again_?'

That was what he was really asking.

"You." ' _Because I just can't let you go_.'

That was the real answer.

"You really shouldn't do that. You'll only upset yourself."

He said it bossily and Frank laughed quietly to himself in the truly empty bedroom.

Frank heard Gerard move from his spot by the windowsill, to the dresser. Frank could almost hear the wood creaking in protest as he leaned against it.

Frank knew Gerard was dead. He knew Gerard was never coming back. He knew he would never stop missing him. Frank knew there was a reason he hasn't moved or even touched any of Gerard's things for a whole year. Frank knew that the reason Gerard's voice sounded so off was because it had been so long since he had heard a recording. He knew that no matter how long he lay there, talking and listening to Gerard, it would never be real. He knew it was the best his imagination could come up with, but it just wasn't good enough. Frank knew Gerard wasn't there.

But sometimes, in moments like this - when it was just the two of them - Frank forgot.

 _I love you, sweetheart. I'll never forget you, Gerard. I'll remember you. Always_.


End file.
